


Meaningless Words Like "It Really Is Okay"

by Skele_snuggles



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: I might change the title sometime because wow that is bad, I'm rating this explicit just to be safe, M/M, Papyrus POV, Pining, Self-Loathing, Sexual Shame, Sibling Incest, because they are gonna do the do, if you want me to tag anything just ask, it's all bone on bone action here, no genitalia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 13:28:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8403439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skele_snuggles/pseuds/Skele_snuggles
Summary: Looking back, Papyrus saw that there had been plenty of warnings, signs that he needed to sit himself down, properly examine his feelings, make sure that he didn’t want to touch his brother inappropriately.





	

Self loathing was a rather new feeling for Papyrus, but, as he rested his eyes on his brother, sleeping peacefully on the couch, head elevated on Papyrus’s femur, and felt a pressure, a wanting, build up deep inside of him, he became more acquainted with it very quickly. How could it have come to this?

Of course, he knew exactly what had happened.

-

It all really started on this very couch, when he and Sans had been relaxing together with some mindless television as the day wound down to an end. Sans had jostled him a bit by stretching languidly, arms high above his head, and Papyrus had heard his spine pop a few times. Then, like a puppet with cut strings, his brother dropped back down, seeming to sink a bit into the couch as the whole of him drained of tension. Looking at him at that moment, Papyrus had felt a sudden impulse to kiss him. Well, not an impulse, exactly. It was a bit more like a realization that he could simply lean over and press his mouth into Sans’s, that nothing was stopping him. 

That wasn’t actually too strange for Papyrus. It often happened around his friends, when he was walking somewhere with them or having a conversation or simply sitting with them, like right then. He had always thought that it was strange that a kiss was supposed to be something inherently romantic; sometimes he simply felt a surge of affection for someone, and a kiss felt like the proper way to let it out. 

Such behavior would be hardly acceptable, however, and so he had not and had no plans in the future to act on such an impulse. Still, his brother was quite wonderful, and Papyrus saw no harm in letting him know that. So he leaned over and briefly touched his teeth to the top of the small skeleton’s skull, instead of where he had initially imagined putting them. 

Sans looked over, and in the dim light Papyrus thought he could see a dusting of blue on his cheekbones. Cute. “uh, what was that for?”

Papyrus had laughed a bit, softly. “NOTHING AT ALL.”

-

The next incident had happened when Sans came home a bit late one day, and announced with a grin that he was going to have a comedy show at MTT Resort. Obviously, Papyrus was overcome with joy! With a hearty “NYEH HEH HEH!” he had swept his brother up in a tight hug, and had felt more than heard the chuckling against him. Sans slid his arms around Papyrus, returning the embrace, and in doing so had softly brushed against one of his ribs. Papyrus felt a sudden jump in his lower regions at the touch. 

Of course, that was just his body reacting naturally to what happened around it. Nothing to focus on, and no cause for concern. Papyrus had given Sans a last tight squeeze, ending the hug, and had smiled hugely while he told him how proud he was.

“EVEN IF YOU ARE JUST FINDING AN EXCUSE TO TELL YOUR LAME PUNS TO EVEN MORE PEOPLE! NYEH HEH HEH!”

Smiling back just as wide, Sans said, “you know that i can’t resist a good audience. i just hope that i don’t disappoint my adoring _pun_ blic.”

“SANS! …THAT ONE WAS A STRETCH.”

“yeah, i’ll write some better material for my act.”

-

Then there had been the time that Papyrus _insisted_ that Sans join him for training. Usually Sans found a way to weasel out of such activities, but that day Papyrus had been determined that Sans brush up on his magic. He was getting concerned over his brother getting lazier and lazier. He needed to exercise, and to keep himself sharp. Papyrus knew that his brother was frail, and some days found himself distracted with the worry that somehow, Sans had been hurt. He needed to make sure that Sans could take care of himself!

And so the two of them had gone back and forth, sparring with their different bone patterns, and Papyrus was pleased to see that Sans seemed to be able to summon his magic just as effortlessly as ever. Perhaps he worried too much.

Even so, his brother was still out of shape, and all the moving around and magical exertion got to him much more quickly than Papyrus. So when Sans, gasping and sweating, had asked if they could stop, Papyrus had conceded that that was probably enough for the day.

They’d done their practice in the foggy clearing off to the right of their house, so it wasn’t a long walk home. Still, Sans’s eyelids were drooping, and he was nearly stumbling on the way back; Papyrus wondered if he had overdone it. Sans entered the house first, and wasted no time in shucking off his blue jacket and flopping down onto the couch, laying down and allowing his shirt to fall in past his ribs where other monsters would have had a stomach. It gave Papyrus pause because, thinking about it, he couldn’t actually remember the last time that he had seen Sans without the jacket on. From the moment he came out of his room in the morning to the moment he turned in for the night, he was wearing the signature blue. Simply because it was an oddity, Papyrus found himself staring.

And, well, Papyrus had always liked the way Sans looked. He’d always liked how soft and inviting the thick, round bones were in comparison to his sharp ones. But something about that day, something about seeing Sans with an arm slung over his eye sockets, ribcage moving heavily up and down as he tried to get his breathing under control, was making Papyrus see those bones in a new light. Their curves were smooth, graceful, _fascinating_. He wanted to run his hands over every inch of them, just to see what they would feel like under his fingers. He wanted to see what Sans would look like if he’d take that shirt off, too.

And boy, _that_ was a little inappropriate, wasn’t it? Cheeks blazing, Papyrus chastised himself. No need to let his curiosity get out of hand! He tore his eyes away from his brother’s prone form and strode into the kitchen, deciding that a good meal was deserved after a good workout.

-

Eventually he came to the point of no return. Papyrus woke up one morning feeling a tingle of need, and set to casually stroking his lowest set of ribs.

And in his sleep-addled state, he imagined that Sans was the one doing it.

Why shouldn’t he? It was a private moment, not one that Sans would ever be privy to. That meant that it didn’t really matter if he trailed a light touch down his spine and imagined that the fingertips were actually Sans’s, that his brother was crouching between his legs and hovering over him, looking down at each vertebrae with rapture. It didn’t matter because Sans was never going to know about this, and what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.

So he imagined that Sans had slowly, teasingly, reached the base of his spine, and was considering his pelvis, wondering where to start. Eventually, he settled on caressing the inside the crests that made up Papyrus’s hips, at first lightly, but growing firmer with each stroke, until he was rhythmically kneading at Papyrus’s bone. And if Sans was really there, he would have looked up, and seen how Papyrus’s breath was speeding, and he’d have smirked in that way that he had, and asked, “ _is that how you like it?_ " in a low, husky voice. Papyrus would have had no choice but to nod, and so he did it, to help himself keep up the illusion.

Then Papyrus let his head drop back, and dragged his fingers even lower, reaching for his pubic arch. He could just imagine the mischief that would spark though Sans’s eyes as he suddenly gripped the sensitive spot, and even though Papyrus was doing it himself and completely expected it he still gasped out at the sensation. He started up a pattern of steady pulls at the area, coupled with rubs of his fingers, and the pressure built. He thought about Sans, slowly leaning down and meeting Papyrus’s eyes right before scraping the bone gently with his teeth, and that was it. Everything burst into stars.

The sensation began to die down, and Papyrus felt as his breathing slowed.

Well. That was certainly a thing thing that he had done.

And… and it wasn’t a problem! It had happened spur of the moment, and surely didn’t mean anything. Sans was an attractive skeleton; it ran in the family, after all! Papyrus had merely projected certain things onto him, because he had no other real outlet for his affections. As long as he made absolutely certain to _never let this happen again_ , everything was fine!

Satisfied with this, Papyrus had gotten dressed and stepped out his door, ready to head downstairs and make breakfast. He had gotten to the kitchen and seen Sans there, leaning against the counter, a cup of coffee in his hands. The blue jacket was on, but unzipped, and beneath the white shirt Papyrus saw a peek of collarbone. Sans had looked up, blinked blearily, and said, “mornin’ bro,” his voice a little scratchy and low from sleep.

Oh.

Oh _no_.

“AH, I SEEM TO HAVE, FORGOTTEN, SOMETHING, UPSTAIRS!” A pause. “I’LL BE BACK.”

And he got the hell out of there.

-

All of that had somehow grown, culminated into the current predicament of sitting with every bone in his body pulled taut and tense, trying to ignore the feeling that curled through him. Looking back, Papyrus saw that those events had been warnings, signs that he needed to sit himself down, properly examine his feelings, make sure that he didn’t want to _touch his brother inappropriately_.

Oh god, oh god. What would Sans think if he knew? Well, he wouldn’t have fallen asleep on Papyrus’s leg, that was for certain. He wouldn’t want to be asleep, vulnerable, anywhere near his brother. He’d be so shocked, horrified, _disgusted_. Papyrus was disgusting.

He raked his eyes over Sans, almost involuntarily. God, he was so _small_. It was something that went almost forgotten, usually, because obviously Sans was an adult, and he was always wearing that fluffy blue coat that helped to fill him out. Right then, though, the coat seemed to almost make him smaller, billowing out around his tiny frame. Yes, Sans was small and perfect and lovely, and Papyrus shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near him. The thought of it made him want to cry.

Suddenly, Sans shifted a little, and a hot sigh ghosted over Papyrus’s femur. Every part of him that was sick and wrong snapped to immediate attention, and along with it disgust with himself welled up through his chest cavity and into his throat. He needed to keep still. He couldn’t become a quivering mess, because that would wake Sans up. He must not, under _any circumstances_ , touch Sans, because that would beyond any doubt be a horrible mistake and also because Sans deserved so much better than that.

He was shocked by how much he wanted to. His fingers itched to at least be able to run over the contours of Sans’s skull, or maybe to trace over the top of his spine, perhaps to grip beneath his arms and pull him up into Papyrus’s lap, hold him tightly, turn him around and kiss him breathless-

Papyrus curled his hands into fists and kept them staunchly at his sides.

What Papyrus really needed to do was take control of himself, and of the situation. Yes, of course, the Great Papyrus had excellent control of his body and his magic, this was just one more thing that he needed to wrangle under a metaphorical thumb! With the proper training, anything could be possible. All he needed to do was to _make_ himself stop feeling this way.

...He had no idea how to do that.

But! He’d figure it out! And then he and his brother would be able to do things like hug and cuddle on the couch and be in the general vicinity of eachother without him having to feel like some kind of dirty brother molester.

Until then, he should probably try to avoid getting into situations like this. Sans was a delicate monster, and all Papyrus ever wanted to do was take care of and protect him. He’d make sure to do that for as long as he needed to, even if it was from himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first fanfiction on my brand new secret smut account r u excited
> 
> Hooooo boy pining and self-loathing are my jam so you can probably expect more of that as time goes on.
> 
> I was too ashamed to ask anyone I know to look over this for me so if you spot any errors I’d really appreciate it if you point them out.
> 
> (This may not update for months because I only ever write with very short bursts of inspiration and I apologize in advance)


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